Dragoon's RttToEE IC

Dragoon · Oct 23, 2005

1st of Planting, 591 CY
Weather; High 71, Low 56, Clear Skies, Sunrise 5:52, Sunset 6:11
Campagin Location: Inn of The Welcome Wench, Hommlet

You are taking breakfest in the Inn of the Welome Wench, this famous in is located in the village of Hommet. Which is famous for the forces of good defeating the hordes of Elemental Evil twice in the span of about 20 years.

The smell of fresh baked bread and warm porridge fills the air of the cozy common room, with it's worn but comfortable chairs. Ahh yes the hot food takes out the morning chill out of the bones.

There are several patrons in the in this morning, about 12 , most of them farmers by the looks of them. One person stands out amongst the commoners is a tall well dressed man. You notice that he is having a heated conversation with one of the farmers.

You overhear a bit of thier conversation through the noise of the Inn, the farmer to the tall man, "Come on Elmo, you know something..." and then you can hear no more as the farmer lowers is voice and looks around nervously as he continues to talk more softly to this "Elmo" person.

Erudite · Oct 23, 2005

The tall human at the table closest to the warm hearth leans away from his dwarf companion, even as the dwarf leans even closer towards him. Only an arm bracing himself on the back of the chair keeps him from falling over. He corrects the situation by shuffling his chair across the table from his companion, then leaning forward to speak.

"I still say that the sage is a dead end. My point will be proven, soon enough, when we visit the man. The diary is still at that foul place." The man is barely above average height, solidly built and athletic looking, wearing plain, but very well made, garments of brown fust. Pouches and pockets line the garments, and he wears an indigo cloak against the morning chill. He appears unarmed except for a morning star within a leather hood at his belt, and a dagger in his left boot. His head is shaved bald, and a very trim and neat van Dyke beard juts forward from his chin. He appears to give no notice to the conversation across the room, although his eyes wander to that scene, and around the room as well, on occassion.

nonamazing · Oct 23, 2005

Erimel chews thoughtfully on a hunk of warm bread, occasionally dipping it into his porridge. His playful eyes dart around the room, never focusing on any single thing for very long.

The Wench is busy this morning, Erimel thinks. A lot of travellers, it seems. He watches the servants frantically rushing about the common room, dropping off plates of steaming porridge and filling up mugs with cold juice or warm water. Curious that so many of the farmers would be here this morning as well, having no doubt taken their breakfasts several hours earlier, when they first rose to tend their fields--which at this time of year must be quite important to them. Then Erimel notices the well-dressed man talking with one of the farmers. Ah...they've all come to see this, I think...and they've chosen that farmer to speak for them.

Erimel sits quietly for a few more minutes, finishing his meal, and considering his options. I have sworn to watch over and protect these lands, so if they are discussing something of interest, I should try and become aware of it. On the other hand, if it is a simple argument over a debt owed, I'd do best to stay out of it...

Finally, he makes a decision. With one hand, he waves one of the servants over, gesturing for a refill. When the young boy comes closer, Erimel leans over and whispers, "Excuse me, lad, but do you know who that gentleman is? The one they call...'Elmo'?"

Terraism · Oct 23, 2005

A young man sits by himself, a few feet from the human and dwarf, soaking up the heat from the fire. His bowl of porridge rests on the table before him, barely eaten, and he slowly picks a bit from the center of his bread. He occasionally glances up, peeking looks at the others around the inn, then looking away when they would meet his gaze, embarassed. The farmers, however, seem distracted, and he watches them carefully out of the corner of his eye, straining to hear more of their conversation - and then he hears something about a "diary at that foul place," and noticeably snaps his head around to look towards the pair discussing it.

Foul place, he thinks. I wonder, perhaps there are others curious enough to... no, likely not. I should stay out of it. After a moment, he blinks, and realizes he is staring, blushing and dropping his eyes back towards his porridge, which he goes at with abandon.

Castigator · Oct 23, 2005

Comfortably leaning into his chair and stroking his graying, blond mustache, the man near the kitchen door is clearly not one of the local farmer. The brightly chequered vest, the neat, but aged and much used instruments and most of all his bright blue eyes, mark him as the wandering bard and enterainer who savours the hot meal his fiddle earned for him the eve before.

"The famous Hommlet of glorious deeds and legend, and yet the fine food is the most exciting tale I'd have to tell about my stay so far." he mutters to himself while following the dispute between the locals with unfeigned interest. Doubly so once the men appear to hide their arguments.

"But than again.. " he continues more quietly with a mischievous smile "... maybe there are a few secrets left here, that would be interesting to hear."

Dim_darknight · Oct 23, 2005

Rurik Dwarf Cleric

Rurik digs through his thick beard to scratch at an itchy chin. Leaning any closer to his friend would require crawling onto the table, “Maybe…maybe not. You are surely the most pessimistic Raoist that I have ever known. This Nem fellow seems as solid a lead as any. If for no other reason, he must certainly have some knowledge of our paladin and perhaps useful information about that dreaded place should we require it.”

Rurik is similarly armed, with a morningstar at his hip and dagger in his boot. His armor gleams brightly, with a beautiful silvery sheen. Rurik’s full black mane is a solid contrast to his friend’s “beware of glare” hairstyle. Rurik’s brown eyes follow Baran’s gaze. I wonder what’s up there?

Rurik whispers, “Much as I hate to meddle in local affairs, perhaps we should inquire…”. He waits silently for an answer.

Scotley · Oct 24, 2005

Eglath Goliath Fighter

A big man sits on a bench at a corner table. His hairless gray skin is the color of granite and his massive jaw and brow ridge might seem to be carved of stone if not for the alert bright green eyes taking in the room. He sits with two bowls of porridge and a large basket of bread normally reserved for a table full of hungry farmhands. The spoon looks out of place in his massive hand. He bends his nearly eight foot tall frame uncomfortably to fit the table and his 300 pounds strain the bench. He looks friendly enough and smiles pleasantly at any who make eye contact. However, there is something offputting about the large heavy canvas duffle with dark stains that sits on the floor next to the table. It is filled with odd shapes that could well be a collection of large body parts from the look of them. Furthermore, a huge double bitted axe with a haft as long as the gray man is tall leans causually in the corner within easy reach next to a quiver of javelins that could almost pass as pikes. A strange cool blue light comes from the axe blades and chases the shadows from the corner. The big gray man too wears a morning star at his belt over well worn studded leather armor. He tries to look focused on the food, but clearly the conversation between the well dressed man and the farmer has his attention as well.

Dragoon · Oct 24, 2005

nonamazing said:
"Excuse me, lad, but do you know who that gentleman is? The one they call...'Elmo'?"

The boy spins around after being grabbed by Erimel, "ehh what's that, you don't know how the mighty Elmo is? Smasher of the Risen Temple of Elemental Evil. He is our militia captain!" exclaims the boy loudly. With the boy speaking loudly, Elmo glances over in the direction of Erimel.

occ: I won't be able to post until the evenings on the weeknights, my work blocks enworld (boo), so continue to make posts and I'll summerize what I need to at the end of the day. ohh also I never talked about dice rolling, you can roll you're own at Invisible Castle, just link to it. I'll just roll for inits for everybody.

Erudite · Oct 24, 2005

"Serenity, Rurik" responds Baran, "comes from expecting little. Joy comes from being proven wrong." A few minutes of silence, as both men eat.

Rurik whispers, “Much as I hate to meddle in local affairs, perhaps we should inquire…”. He waits silently for an answer.

"I think..." Baran muses, "that the idea has merit. Perfidy can arise in even the most innocent corner of the land. It has here, before." His face turns a bit darker, and he stands up, ignoring what is left of a rasher of bacon, spiced potatoes, and a tankard of small beer. He and the cleric of Hieroneous approach the crowd, where Baran stands a bit to the back, but close enough to hear, arms crossed across his chest.

Terraism · Oct 24, 2005

Bugger, Laumos grumbles to himself. They're leaving. He follows the man with his eyes, observing over the rim of his porridge bowl as the former approaches the crowd. Oho! Not leaving, but... hm. If they're going to get involved, it may be worth keeping an eye their direction. Now, where did I hear someone else mention the Temple just a moment ago? The pale-skinned man sets down the porridge and reaches for another bit of bread - just the meat, mind, never the crust - and looks around the room, stopping on the elf and young boy gesturing animatedly beside him.

Dragoon's RttToEE IC

Dragoon

First Post

Erudite

First Post

nonamazing

Explorer

Terraism

Explorer

Castigator

First Post

Dim_darknight

First Post

Scotley

Hero

Dragoon

First Post

Erudite

First Post

Terraism

Explorer

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